


Maybe in Your Dreams

by snowkatze



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Dreams, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: At night, Simon dreams about kissing Baz and all the things he loves about him. By daylight, he forgets about all that in the same way he doesn’t allow himself to think. By daylight, he hates Baz and worries that he’s plotting. He’s lucky he doesn’t remember the dreams because it would never go well if he did. Or would it?





	Maybe in Your Dreams

_Baz hair looks soft. It always does. And I always want to touch it. Now he looks at me, softly. A gaze I've never seen from him. Not directed at me, anyway. Then, suddenly, his lips curl into a smile and I'm gone. If only he'd smile like that all the time, if only I could always wash the frown off his face. If only I could make him stop hurting. I know that he is, beneath the surface. I know that, really, Baz Pitch is just like me. It hurts me to know that._

_It breaks my heart and his hair looks soft and I want to touch it. That, too, breaks my heart. There's a reason for that, but I don't think of it now. All I think about is his jawline. It looks so sharp as though he could cut himself on it. His face is made of edges, but it goes soft when I touch his cheek. His hair frames his face gently, his nose is slightly crooked but it makes the whole picture only more interesting. There's a storm going on inside his eyes._

_I think what I always think when I look at him. Why does he have to be so bloody perfect? Everything about him is.  
And then he makes a mistake. Because he whispers: 'Simon,' and he should never call me that. Not in that perfect voice of his. Because it's hard enough to pretend when he hates me, it's even harder when he doesn't._

_All the rules I've set up for myself. I'd break them. Any time. If he just called me by my name._  
I bury my hands in his hair and pull him a little closer. He cocks an eyebrow at me and for a second I think we're fighting but then he urges forward and our lips meet.  
Don't even get me started on his lips. The things he could do with them... But it's not even about the kissing. It's being connected to him, being together with him and feeling free. If only I had this kind of freedom.  
  
The alarm clock rings and Simon grunts. It's the start of another day. He wants to stay in the dream for a few more seconds, but Baz has already left for breakfast. And he needs to watch Baz at all times, because he cares about him... So much...  
That thought jerks Simon awake properly. His eyes snap open and he shakes his head, confused. _Need to watch Baz... Because he's plotting. Always is._   
He surges and leaps out of the bed. Another day begins. He sighs and goes for the bathroom, thinking about the dream. It was a good dream, he knows that much. But no matter how hard he tries to remember, he can't imagine what the dream was about.

In the breakfast hall, Simon watches Baz out of the corner of his eye. He's sneering about something. Simon doesn't think about the way his hair falls into place. He doesn't think about how beautiful Baz' lips would looks smiling. No, he thinks,  _certainly, Baz doesn't have any feelings at all. Nothing can hurt him. Nothing can hurt Baz._

As he goes about his day, he thinks about Baz, because he just can't help it. In the way you'd imagine him thinking about his enemy. Concerned. Fearful. Not in the way he thinks about him every night. In his dreams.

 

After school, Baz is waiting for him in their room. Simon is suspicious, but he doesn't say anything. Baz looks strangely thoughtful and Simon wonders why he just looks into space, as though he was trying to solve a riddle. Simon thinks it would be best to just ignore him, but as he sits on his bed, trying to do homework, he feels Baz' gaze linger on him. Something is wrong. He can tell. There is tension in the air and he doesn't know where it came from. Suddenly Baz jumps up and Simon is too startled to move. Baz tackles him onto the bed, pinning his hands beside his head.  
 _Calm down,_ Simon wants to say but all he manages to breathe out is 'Anathema.'  
'You need to answer me a question,' Baz hisses and his voice sounds broken. Simon is panicking a little bit. Not because he's afraid, but because this situation is strange. Baz doesn't sound like usual, when he wants to start a fight. No, he sounds emotional, like this is important to him. What could that be?  
Simon is too surprised to resist. He doesn't even defend himself. He just lays still and waits for the question.  
'What did you about last night?'  
'I don't dream.'  
'Everybody dreams.'  
'Well, I don't.'  
'I know you do. I hear you talk in your sleep.'  
'Then, apparently, I forget about the dreams in the morning.'  
'That must mean they aren't that important.'  
 _No,_ Simon thinks, but doesn't bother to correct him. _That's not what it means at all._

'I think, maybe I dream about Agatha.'  
'Didn't you break up?'  
'That doesn't mean that I stopped loving her, does it?'  
Baz stays really quiet for a second, he looks down and lets go of Simon's wrists, taking a step back. For some reason, Simon's heart clenches.  
'Yeah' Baz says and swallows repeatedly. 'I guess.'  
Baz seems weirdly restraint and Simon doesn't know what's happening. He doesn't know what he did wrong, only that he did, and that he wants to stop it.  
'Why do you care about my dreams?' he asks and for some reason, he thinks he knows. But it doesn't make any sense. Nothing makes sense.  
'You said something. In your dream. Something really... weird.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'Something you would remember if you woke up. Because it would freak you out. But I guess there is a logical explanation to all of this.'  
'Baz. What did I say?'  
'It doesn't matter now. I was wrong.'  
'Baz.'  
'That's what you said.'  
'What?'  
'You said 'Baz.' And then...'  
'Then what, Baz? Please.'  
'I love you.'  
Simon freezes and his mouth goes dry and his heart beat speeds up and then – then he realizes that that is what he said in his dream. Not only that, he remembers it. Suddenly he remembers every thought he ever repressed and every dream he ever imagined for the cruelty of reality.

'Fuck,' he whispers.

'It's like you said. You probably dreamed about Agatha. And I was there, trying to snatch her away from you. And that's why you said my name, before confessing your love to her. That's what must have happened.'  
'Probably? Why do you say probably? What else should I have dreamed?'  
'S-sorry, I-'  
'No, I asked you a question.'  
'I thought that – for some reason – you dreamed... about... me.'  
'And that made you angry,' Simon whispers, eyes wide. 'Didn't it?'  
'Fuck off.'  
'Do you know about dreams, Baz? In your dreams, you can't lie to yourself. In reality, you can.'  
'Bullshit. I lie to myself in dreams all the time. And for fuck's sake, I couldn't lie to myself when I'm awake if I wanted to. And believe me, I want to.'  
'I remember it now. I remember it all. I dream because dreams don't hurt you. Reality does.'  
'What are you on about?'  
Simon stands up, stepping closer to Baz, to face him.  
'I thought you were plotting. I worried about it all the time. I was stupid.'  
'So I keep telling you.'  
'Don't be mean, Baz, please. I'm trying to be honest with you.'  
'Honest about what? It's no secret that you think I'm a lying, mischievous-'  
He doesn't say it, he doesn't think it, he just _does_ it.  
The world is ending. Or maybe it isn't. He wouldn't know if it was. He doesn't know anything. Only that, when he lays his hand on Baz' cheek, his face doesn't go soft. It just freezes. And he doesn't talk any more. He leans closer and then he feels his lips – damn. Damn those lips, this is so much better than dreaming. He buries his hands in Baz' hair, like he always dreamed of doing. Carefully, he strokes the soft skin beneath Baz' ear. But Baz doesn't go soft. He doesn't do anything. This is not a dream.

When Simon pulls away from him, Baz stares at him in shock.  
'What,' he mutters. 'What was that.'  
He looks so confused that, for a moment, Simon pities him.  
He smiles ever so sadly. 'This is why it hurts. This is why I'd rather dream. Because in my dreams, you'd kiss me back.'  
And Simon will go away, before Baz realizes what happened and punches him. He wishes he had never remembered his dreams. There really was a reason why he didn't allow himself to think. But now it's too late. He'll never be able to forget about kissing Baz.

Looking at Baz hurts, staying here hurts, but he knows that leaving will hurt even more. Still, he turns away.  
 _No need to make it worse than it already is.  
_ Except. There's a hand. On his arm. A hand that stops him.

'You fool,' Baz says and Simon would be hurting if he hadn't said it so softly.  
'What do you think I dream about, huh?'

'I don't know, killing me, maybe?'  
'You absolute idiot.'  
And then Baz kisses him again.  
'This is what I dream about.'  
'Then how do we know we're not dreaming right now?'  
'We can't.'  
'So?'  
'So, I don't care.'  
'Me neither.'  
They kiss again. And when they wake up in the morning, curled up in each others arms, it will still feel like a dream. _But it won't be_.  
  


 


End file.
